The Morning After the Night Before
by starfish422
Summary: Slash: The night before - drunkenness and an iPhone. The morning after - humiliation, a hangover and...insanely hot fantasies? A crossover appearance by QAF Emmett. Language/explicit sexuality.
1. The Morning After the Night Before

**Written for the Friday Free-for-All feature on Twilighted, for May 7. Thanks to everyone who voted in the poll on my blog when I was trying to decide on a prompt for the story. This prompt was suggested by Trish/DefinitelyStaying and was the clear poll winner. :) **

-o-

_**The Morning After**_

When Edward awoke, he was cotton-mouthed and his head felt like someone had used it to play a timpani solo. He groaned at the audacity of the sunlight that streamed through his bedroom window. Even through his closed eyelids, it was obscenely bright.

He had to piss, or he might have simply gone back to sleep. Once he was up and had used the bathroom, he decided to go to the kitchen for some water and ibuprofen. The water, so cool and refreshing to his parched throat, very nearly came right back up the instant it reached his stomach. He bent at the waist, resting his forearms on the cool counter, and lay his head on them; careful to keep his face just a couple of inches from the lip of the sink, in case his stomach did refund the water. He breathed slowly..._in through the nose...out through the mouth..._relaxing his stomach and willing it to settle. After a few minutes he felt stable enough to walk to his couch. Slowly, carefully, he lowered himself to the soft, welcoming surface.

For the next several hours he drifted, his odd, disjointed dreams reflecting the severity of his hangover. He got up again for more water, and this time he didn't have trouble keeping it down, drinking one full glass. After refilling it, he decided he should try to eat something. He rifled through his fridge, looking for the pizza he knew was there. Finding it, he decided to stick it in the oven to warm it up, rather than just eating it cold. Fifteen minutes later he was on his couch, the plate of reheated pizza on his lap and the glass of water beside him; and he turned on the TV, finding a decade-old movie on one of the specialty channels. He settled in to watch...though he kept the volume low.

Within an hour or two he was feeling quite a bit better, hydration and sustenance having made a world of difference for his condition. He retrieved his iPhone from the coffee table and switched it on, checking his texts. He had only one, sent to him a few hours earlier by his best friend Em. _Hey, I'm sober now and it still looks good._ Edward's face twisted slightly as he searched his memory for something that would tell him what Em was talking about. _Did Em get a tattoo last night? Fuck – DID I?? _ He rose from the couch, twisting one way and the other in front of the tall mirror that hung beside his apartment door. He found nothing – at least nothing visible, and his body, abused though it was, didn't feel like he'd subjected it to ink last night. So that left Em; but Edward didn't remember having left the apartment last night. Em had come over, they'd gotten shitfaced and watched porn, jerked off together – Edward grimaced slightly at that; Em was always trying to get him to do it and he'd finally been drunk enough to say yes – and then Em had called a cab. That was it...wasn't it?

Edward sincerely hoped so.

He fired a quick text back to Em. _No idea what you're talking about, fucker._ While he waited for Em to text him back, he opened Tweetie to check out what was new on his Twitter feed. The messages populated in the window and he touched the Replies icon, looking first to see if anyone had tweeted him directly. There were two, both from Em. One was a retweet of one of their favorite feeds, Guys With iPhones. Em stalked the GWiP page obsessively and had a substantial cache of images he'd saved from the site. Edward was more discriminating, but he, too, had a folder of images.

Grinning, Edward clicked the link in the tweet, wondering what gift to men Em had found this time. The tweets from GWiP were almost always identical – no commentary, no description. Just a dry post: _Posted a new Guys with iPhones,_ followed by the link. No amount of description in the world, though, could have prepared Edward for the image that found its way to his screen. He saw it, dropped the iPhone on the couch like it was a white-hot coal, and ran to the bathroom, losing the battle with his stomach.

By the time he returned from the bathroom, sweaty and weak, his phone was ringing. _EMMETT, _he thought murderously, and picked up the phone from where he'd hurled it on the couch. Peering at the screen, he saw what he already knew.

"_Emmett. Motherfucking. Honeycutt," _Edward spat into the receiver through gritted teeth.

"Ah, so you figured it out, then?" came the airy response from the other end of the line. In his mind's eye, Edward saw the unconcerned expression on Em's freckled face, looking down his upturned nose at his latest fingernail color...

...while Edward writhed in mortification. For the image that had appeared when Edward clicked the link was a familiar body – very familiar indeed.

"When did we take pictures of ourselves?" Edward demanded, ignoring the throbbing in his head that was worse when he raised his voice.

"Uh, not 'we'," Em corrected. "That was _you_, sweetie, and you alone."

Edward snorted. "Don't give me the gears. This has your name written all over it! You've already posted your picture on there, what, three times? Four?"

"Try six," Em stated matter-of-factly, and his aloof tone infuriated Edward further. "Last night you said it was your night to shine...and you shone!"

Edward sank onto the couch and put his head between his knees. Glimpses of blurry, gin-soaked memories told him Emmett was telling the truth. His heart was pounding and he was having trouble breathing. "Em," he groaned, "why didn't you talk me out of it?"

Emmett laughed out loud. "Talk you _out_ of something I've been trying for months to talk you _into_? Oh, honey, no." Edward groaned again and Em continued, "Besides, didn't you see the replies? You're a star, sweetie! This is every queer's dream!"

"Em," Edward replied, keeping his voice even, "this. Is not. A dream. This is a _nightmare._"

"Please fuck me," said Emmett.

Edward sat bolt upright. That was crossing the line, even considering Emmett's merely-casual acquaintance with the concept of boundaries. "Em!" he said, shock coloring his tone.

"I could suck your cock all day," was Em's only reply. Edward was now speechless, and Em took advantage of his silence to add, "As long as you have a cock, I have a place to sit."

"EMMETT!" Edward finally yelled. "For the love of--would you just--god, stop saying shit like that to me!"

"Oh, take it down a notch, Liza," Em replied disdainfully. "I'm reading the comments, moron. This is no big revelation to _me_ – we've been going to the gym together for three years. But these people are basking in the sight of your perfect body for the first time, and they are responding accordingly."

"Hmph," grunted Edward.

Emmett sounded frustrated with Edward. "Would you just go to the site yourself and look? You've got nineteen comments! 'Hot slim body and gorgeous cock.' "I want you in my ass.' 'I'd get on my knees for you anytime.'"

"Agh!" It was creeping Edward out to hear those words coming from Em – his best friend in the world, and absolutely the last person he wanted to fuck. "If I go to the fucking site, will you stop reading them out loud?"

"You're such a baby," Em muttered. "How you've ever managed to relax enough to fuck, is beyond me."

"Thank you for your _unsolicited_ opinion on my sex life," Edward mumbled. "I'm hanging up now. I'd rather suffer this humiliation privately."

"Wait, make sure you check out the one--"

Whatever Em was going to say, it was lost when Edward hung up. He sighed and opened his laptop, meting out an odd sort of punishment to himself in looking at it full-sized, rather than on the screen of his iPhone. He went to the site he knew so well; and he didn't have to scroll down very far to find the photo. Sighing, he clicked it and watched the photo load.

The picture itself was fine, he decided after staring at it for some minutes. In it, he was completely naked, standing in front of the same mirror in which he'd examined himself for tattoos earlier. _At least I didn't take it in the bathroom_, Edward reflected. He was standing at a 45-degree angle to the mirror, looking down at his hand in which his cock rested. It was erect, the foreskin nestled at the base of the head, so he'd have taken it during the jerkoff session. The photo captured his body from the mid-thigh up, and his face was plainly visible. "Fucking Emmett," Edward muttered again. He was becoming less convinced that Em actually was to blame, but was still clinging to anything that would let him curse about Em's involvement. _He should have told me I'd regret it._

Steeling himself again, he began to scroll down to read the comments below the picture. The ones Em had already read to him were only the first six. Thirteen more followed, as complimentary as the first ones. Reading things like _Your chest is so perfect and smooth, I wanna play with your nipples while I ride your cock; _and _OMG, do u live near NYC? Email me... _Edward found a faint flush of pleasure creeping over him, in spite of himself.

By the time he got to the final comment, he was feeling pretty fucking good about himself, but he was unprepared for what awaited him in that final reply. The commenter, identified as _jazzlovesjizz atgmail_, stated, _I came twice last night thinking about fucking your sweet ass. If you're in Seattle, I'm in heat. _Not only did the Seattle reference make him catch his breath, but it was the only one that acknowledged Edward might be something other than a top. It also contained a link to another GWiP post. The link was in yellow, contrasting with the white of the regular comments.

"Well, well," Edward said aloud, and casually he let his finger wander across the touchpad. He had topped once or twice, and of course it felt good; but he far preferred being a bottom. Loved it, in fact, despite Em's implication that he was wound too tight to fuck. His finger, having moved the cursor over the link, hovered in mid-air for just a moment before he lightly tapped the touchpad. The webpage responded immediately, beginning to load the picture ostensibly posted by jazzlovesjizz.

For the second time in as many minutes, he sucked in a sharp breath. The photo that loaded was stunning, both its subject and the composition. A man with a mass of chin-length blond curls stood looking into the camera, his iPhone peeking out of his shirt pocket, rather than being used to take the photo. Either he'd had someone take it for him or he'd used a tripod, Edward reflected. The man had a beautiful mouth; and his full lips were parted softly, the tip of his tongue delicately touching his top lip near the corner of his mouth. He was wearing a white short-sleeved shirt, but it was entirely unbuttoned, leaving it open, one side of it blown away from his body by a soft breeze. The man's palms rested on his groin, on either side of the open fly of his jeans, framing a beautiful, semi-hard cock. He didn't look terribly long in the state he was in, but he sure was thick. Whether he was a grower or a shower, Edward thought, he had his bases covered either way.

As for the background of the shot, the photograph had been composed in front of the rather suggestive outline of the Smith Building. Every time Edward saw it he immediately thought of a huge, hard, thick cock pointing straight up into the sky. Vaguely he wondered how the boy had managed to pose in front of it, baring himself to the camera without being seen by others, but it really was not among the prime concerns on his mind.

"Jazz loves jizz," he whispered, repeating it several times, committing the email address to memory. "Jazz loves jizz." He stared at the photo for a long time, committing every detail to memory. His attention was only diverted when his phone beeped with a new text message. He picked it up to find that it was from Em. _The last one...if you don't, I will._

Normally Edward would have rolled his eyes at Em's blatant suggestion. Today he didn't...because he was already seriously considering it. He set his iPhone back on the couch, pushed his laptop away, and got up. He decided to go shower, and for long moments he simply stood below the hot spray, asking himself what he was doing. Was he truly going to email this guy, knowing nothing about him?

Edward realized his hand was on his cock, softly caressing down the now-hardening length. He thought of the hands that had lain flat against the front of Jazz's groin...he thought of them on his own cock. He thought of those hands gliding over his ass, squeezing, spreading him open. He thought of long fingers delving, exploring him, sliding in and out...Edward propped one foot on the side of the tub and, keeping one hand on his cock, let the other glide over his perineum to his ass. He hummed when his own fingers entered him, and squeezed his cock gently. He imagined a sweaty, damp forehead pressing against the back of his shoulder; soft honey curls brushing his bare skin; swore he could feel teeth gently bite down on the back of his neck. _Say my name,_ his phantom lover intoned softly. "Jaaaazzzzz," Edward murmured aloud, and the fantasy took him over the edge. He came hard, cum spurting against the tile of the shower wall, until his knees were weak.

By the time Edward was dried off and dressed, his mind was made up. He would create a sock-puppet email account, and he would email Jazz. He'd agree to meet him someplace public, and if he had a good feeling about him...he was pretty sure he'd let Jazz fuck his brains out.

_**The Night Before**_

Jasper threw the textbook halfway across the room, cursing as he did. He'd already read the same paragraph four times and was not retaining a shred of the information it contained. There was no way he was going to keep up the pretense of studying, not when he was so obviously climbing the walls.

He knew what was wrong; he knew why his brain was short-circuiting on him. He was a week away from mid-terms, and he'd done nothing but study, attend class, and occasionally eat and sleep, for the last three weeks. He hadn't gone out, had barely seen his friends, and he sure as hell hadn't had any sex; he'd only jerked off three times in those weeks, and they were quick and efficient releases when he was too wired to sleep.

He was libidinous...concupiscent...prurient, said the English major in his brain. Fucking horny, said the 21-year-old perv, who resided somewhere south of his brain.

Still, it was too late to go out – the clubs would be closing within half an hour. It was times like these when he seriously wished he'd arranged with a friend to be fuck buddies. No, for tonight, he guessed he'd have to dip into his stash of porn, and maybe a toy; take his time, and then really let himself go.

He booted up his laptop, opening up a browser window. He subscribed to a particular gay porn site, and had never begrudged the money he paid to have access to it, especially since he'd found on it his own personal wet dream, in the form of a young man named Alec. Alec had dark hair, close-cropped in the back and sides, but moulded into a fauxhawk on top. He had dark eyes that made Jasper weak in the knees. He was muscular and his body was smooth and buff, and his ass...it had starred in many of Jasper's hottest fantasies.

The site had been promising that a new movie featuring Alec would be released this month, but the release date was still a week away. He had already jerked off to every Alec movie on the site many, many times. Tonight, he reflected, maybe he would search a few other places for something new to fantasize about. He hadn't taken the time to hit any eye candy sites since his self-imposed exile began. He decided to start with his favorite, Guys With iPhones. He usually had to scroll through quite a bit on the site to find one or two gems that really appealed to him, but it was always fun, anyways.

The page loaded quickly, and the first two pictures were of a weird, squinty-looking dude, wearing a baseball hat so big it looked like a batting helmet. He had a bizarre thing going on with his eyebrows, as though he'd shaved a notch out of each eyebrow to turn them into eight separate clumps of hair instead of two solid lines. The photo had been taken in his bathroom, and Jasper made a disgusted sound at the back of his throat. _At least put the seat down before you take the picture, _he thought before scrolling down.

The rest of the pictures on the home page weren't quite as bad, though nothing spectacular; aside from one, whose subject looked like Doctor Hunt on Grey's Anatomy. Jasper usually preferred dark hair and dark eyes like Alec, but he had to admit that if Owen Hunt wanted him to throw down, he'd be naked in two seconds flat. The man in the picture had simply massive arms, and still managed not to look like one of those freakish muscle-bound guys whose eyes might pop out of the sockets. _Right-click, save. _

He continued on through a couple days' worth of pictures, saving two more to his hard drive, but not finding anything truly moving. He sighed, moving his mouse up to click the banner at the top, taking him back to the first page, expecting to see the squinty guy again as the first pics on the page.

Squinty had been bumped.

In his place at the top of the page was a photo of a completely naked guy standing in front of a mirror in what looked to be a living room. Jasper clicked the photo to view it full-sized, and when the picture loaded, he sucked in a sharp breath. The boy was probably around the same age as him, but with light reddish-brown hair, he was completely not what Jasper would normally define as his "type". Jasper couldn't see his eyes because he was looking down at his cock instead of at the camera; but his face was beautiful. He looked serious, but Jasper imagined there was passion simmering within. He was quite slim, more so than Jasper typically found attractive, his abs were beautifully-defined and his cock...the way it stood out from his body at a perfect ninety-degree angle made Jasper's mouth water with the desire to suck it.

And – the best part – the boy was angled toward the mirror enough to show his cock, but the angle also showed that behind those narrow hips was the most perfect ass in history. It was full and round; it looked soft. Jasper wanted to sink his teeth into it. He wanted to feel the pliant flesh under his fingertips. He wanted to slap it gently and watch it bounce slightly before returning to its place.

It was mesmerizing.

Jasper was powerless to stop the movement of his own hands toward his cock; couldn't help the moan that escaped him when he thought of the boy's lips wrapped around him. He wished he knew the boy's name; he would whisper it to him between little sucking kisses on his neck. He would feel the hard press of an erect cock against the top of his thigh; would contain the boy's writhing within his arms. He would feel the boy go to pieces as he tongued the crack of that gorgeous ass and pressed into the little divot, feeling it yielding for him. He would slide two lube-slick fingers inside, feel the boy stretch around him; seek that gland inside that would make him—

Jasper was shocked to find himself so quickly on the edge of no-going-back. He stopped stroking...pinched his shaft just under the head...but he could not completely stem what was already right there. He came – not a huge, earth-shattering orgasm, but pleasurable nonetheless, releasing some of the pressure that roiled within him. Beads of jizz landed on his hand and the gentle spasms had him moaning.

When the peak was past, he realized he hadn't even undressed – was pressed back into the cushions of his couch, but hadn't bothered to remove the shirt or sleep pants he'd put on when he got out of the shower earlier in the evening. He pulled his shirt off, using it to clean his hand, and tossed it on the floor; his pants followed. He lay back, his shoulders and head against the thick, cushioned arm of his couch. The soft, sueded microfiber caressed his bare skin and the deep softness of the couch cradled his body...and he started to stroke again.

He took his time this time, walking one step at a time back into the hottest fantasy he'd ever had. He started with the head of his cock at the boy's ass, and felt the lithe body beneath him as he pressed slowly, steadily inside. He reveled in the fullness of each round cheek caressing his groin; heard low moans and softly-gasped obscenities from each of them when their bodies moved together. The fire in the root of his body was growing, glowing hot up into his stomach and chest; a flush spreading over him.

When he came, the fire blazed up instantly, consuming him. His hips lifted off the couch, his heels digging in to the cushion, his body twisting. He groaned loudly, feeling his hot release splash across his stomach and chest, imagining it was his lover's semen on him...wishing it was. Repeated paroxysms rocked his body, his orgasm seemingly lasting forever before subsiding, leaving him weak, quiescent exhausted. He managed to reach to the floor beside the couch and retrieve his shirt, again using it to wipe his skin clean. He reached up to the afghan on the back of his couch and tugged it down to cover his naked body, and almost instantly, he fell asleep.

He woke after only five or six hours, his laptop still humming on the coffee table beside him. He decided to get up and go to his own bed; before he did, he saved the picture of the fantasy boy to his laptop. He was about to close out of the site...but he just couldn't. He sat there, bleary-eyed, staring at the picture for several moments longer as he debated...

...and then he pulled down his Favorites list and clicked the link to another GWiP post, one from six months earlier – a photo he'd had his best friend take of him and then posted on the site. He copied the URL, clicked back to the previous page, and quickly wrote a comment to the boy, including the link and his contact information; and before he could change his mind, _Click, submit_.

He shut down his computer, and with it, his optimism. He had no illusions; it was an extremely long shot that the boy from the picture was in or near Seattle. Even if he was, why he would respond to a random proposition from a stranger on the internet? He knew he would almost certainly _not_ hear from him, and he felt more regret for that than he could explain.

_**The Evening to Follow**_

It was noon before Jasper woke again. He'd slept the sleep of the dead, the best he'd had in weeks, and felt like a new person. He got up and had lunch and decided to take advantage of his newly-restored energy to head to the gym. He ran into some friends, and ended up not returning home until after six, ready to once again tackle the studying he'd thrown aside the night before.

He opened his laptop and pushed the power button, retrieving his textbook while it booted up. By the time he found his place in the book, his computer was loaded. He absentmindedly clicked the email icon, always his first action after he booted up, and then click the Word document for the assignment he'd been working on last. He read through the final couple of paragraphs he'd written, vaguely noting the soft chime his laptop made when it had finished loading his new emails. Finally, after adding a couple of point-form notes to the document, he clicked on his email window.

He had – he counted – sixteen new emails just to the jazzlovesjizz account, one he'd set up solely for the purpose of submitting his picture to GWiP six months before. He'd gotten nine emails then, notification of comments on his picture, and it hadn't seen a day of action since then. He began to click through the new emails now, more amused than anything else. Three were simply text emails, inviting him to meet the sender online for video chat and mutual jerkoff sessions. _Click, delete._ Several were from nice vanilla men who simply responded in kind, with their own iPhone pics. He thanked the iPhone gods that Squinty wasn't among them. _Click, delete._ Four were from women...and they included pictures. _My eyes! Click, delete! _ One of the emails was from a man who identified himself as Master Aro. The email informed Jasper he'd been very naughty and that Master Aro would have to make a special trip from Tallahassee to punish him. The picture the guy attached made Jasper cringe and automatically reach to protect his balls. _Click, delete...AND BLOCK_.

That one genuinely creeped him out, and it was with trepidation that he clicked to the next email. The sender's email was listed as _edwardlikesjizz2 atgmail_; and the email subject was _Smith Tower – the biggest hard-on in Seattle. _ Jasper scrolled down, finding no text, only an attached photograph...and it made his heart jump into his throat.

It was the boy – the one. _The one. _ The photo wasn't taken in the same place, and he was fully clothed this time, but it was unmistakable. e_dwardlikesjizz2. _"Edward," Jasper breathed aloud, reveling in the knowledge and enjoying the way the name felt on his tongue.

The boy..._Edward_...was standing on Yesler Way, across the street from the bottom of the Butler Garage – the sinking ship garage, Jasper had always called it – Smith Tower rising sharply behind him. The photo was obviously taken with a camera that had a much higher resolution than the iPhone that had taken the first one, and he could see that Edward was even more beautiful than the first picture had done justice to. The sun overhead glinted off his reddish-brown hair; his eyes, not visible in the first picture, were green – clear, vivid green. He was smiling shyly, and in his hands he held a sign, no bigger than a letter-sized sheet of paper, written by hand:

_What is Jazz short for?_

The final thing Jasper noticed about the photo was the date and time stamp. It had been taken two hours earlier.

The boy was Edward, he was in Seattle, and he was interested.

There was no hesitation on Jasper's part; not a moment, not a second. He knew immediately what he what he would do.

_Click, reply. _

-o-

**The Emmett in this story was actually **_**not**_** Emmett McCarty. Instead, I decided to use Emmett Honeycutt, a character from Queer as Folk; so a wee bit of crossover there. I've never written QAF Em before – that was sort of fun for me. :)**

**As always, a thousand kisses to my lobster, Bethie/EJSantry, for previewing. Incidentally, Bethie tells me this story isn't finished, so maybe I'll add Chapter Two at some point. ;) I've added some images to my blog, including the Smith Tower (tell me it *doesn't* look like a giant hard-on), the "sinking ship garage", and the boys. Ohhh, the boys. :) Link to my blog is on my profile. **


	2. Days Go By

_**Days Go By**_

Emmett could only grin as Edward checked his phone for the sixth time in half an hour. "You've got it set as loud as possible, sweetie," Em reminded him. "You're not going to miss the email when it arrives."

"_If_ it arrives," Edward corrected, a trifle petulantly. "Why hasn't he emailed me back yet? He _asked_ me to email him!" He'd sent the email an entire hour ago, as soon as Emmett had taken the photo and downloaded it to his netbook, emailing it to Edward. He expected...well, he could admit that he expected to hear back right way. An hour going by with no reply was nerve-wracking.

"Oh my god," Em grinned. "You are being such a girl. Hey – you're being ME!"

Edward scowled. "Go fuck yourself," he muttered in Emmett's direction before compulsively peering at his phone yet again. It hadn't changed since the last time he'd looked at it.

He set it on the table again, half a second before it screeched loudly, an obnoxious siren splitting the relaxed atmosphere of the restaurant. He silenced it as quickly as possible, but it wasn't soon enough to spare him from glares from their fellow patrons. He felt mildly sheepish, since he was usually the one to glare when others' cell phones would ring in a restaurant or movie; but today he was so anxious to get an email back from the mysterious Jazz, he'd purposely downloaded the most offensive ringtone he could find so he wouldn't miss it when it arrived.

He quickly opened the message, his heart in his throat. Adrenaline surged through him when he realized that there was, indeed, an email from jazzlovesjizz atgmail.

_Edward,_

_I love your picture. You're just as hot with your clothes on as you are raw. __I'm attaching a few more pictures of myself. I would really like to meet you and find out if your mind is as beautiful as your face and the rest of your body. _

_And since you asked, Jazz is short for _

_-Jasper _

_(Yes, really)_

Em bit his lip for as long as he could, until finally he couldn't stand it any longer. "Well?" he demanded excitedly. "What does it say?"

"He wants to find out if my mind is as beautiful as my body," Edward said incredulously, still staring at the message.

"Oooh!" Em squealed, bouncing a little in his seat. "That's so cheesy and awesome! And did he tell you what Jazz is short for?"

"Jasper," Edward replied absentmindedly as he opened the pictures Jasper had attached. "_Holy fuck_," he muttered when the first one came over. "Em, slide over here and look at this – Jesus H."

Em did as he was told, moving to the other side of the booth to sit next to Edward. Together they gazed at the three pictures of the utterly gorgeous blonde, two taken another time and one clearly taken, according to the timestamp, just a few moments before it was sent.

"Wow," said Em, for once finding it difficult to come up with a witty comment. He settled for adding, "Slurrrrrp!"

"I know, right?" Edward agreed. He dropped his voice to a whisper to add, "Imagine holding onto those curls when he's blowing you."

Emmett didn't reply, and Edward looked up at him to find Em staring hungrily into space...imagining it. Edward chuckled, saying, "Em?"

"Emmett can't take your call right now," Em replied mechanically, his gaze still unfixed.

"Hey," Edward said, nudging him with his shoulder. "Stop imagining it!"

Emmett blinked and came back to the present. "You said—"

"No, _I'm_ imagining it – you keep _your_ imaginary hands to yourself."

"Rowr!" Em countered, but he was grinning. "Look who's already all possessive! Well, sweetie, he emailed you back, and he wants to see you. Email him your number."

"Wait, my number? Already?" Edward wasn't sure he knew enough about this guy to give him that kind of access to his life. He'd made up a new email address specifically to reply to Jazz; otherwise there was no way for Jasper to know who he was. "Isn't it too soon?"

Very little happened too soon to suit Em, who fell in and out love with alarming frequency. "He wants to meet you! Aren't you going to talk to him first?"

"I don't think I'm ready to meet him." Edward's palms had suddenly become clammy. "I'd rather email for a while."

"Oh, my god," Em complained, literally throwing up his hands. "You're such a nervous Nellie."

Edward grinned. "You would know, being a great big Nellie boy yourself."

"And yet, I am not the one who's so sexually frustrated, he wakes up and finds bite marks in the headboard," Em said smugly.

Edward's smile quickly faded, because it wasn't that far off the mark. "Regardless," he replied, "not giving him my personal information yet." He picked up his phone and began typing a reply back, muttering curses when the auto-correct rewrote his words.

_Hi Jasper,_

_Thanks for the pictures – you're gorgeous. _

_I'm not sure I'm quite ready to meet yet. Honestly, posting my picture on the site was done in a moment of drunken foolishness and it's not something I would normally do. If it's my mind you're interested in, though, perhaps we could get to know each other by email for a while first. _

_I'll understand if you're not interested...but I hope you are._

_-Edward_

Emmett rolled his eyes as he watched what Edward typed, but kept his thoughts to myself. He knew the fact that Edward had replied to the guy at all meant he was very interested, and he knew his friend well. He didn't want to push him too far too fast, and risk having him shut down completely.

Edward felt another thrill when his phone, now set back to its normal subtle ringtone, chimed softly just a few moments later.

_Hi again,_

_I am. :)_

_-Jasper_

"Well, all right!" Em said enthusiastically. "That's a great start – he wants to get to know you."

Edward suddenly felt sick to his stomach. "Yeah. Great."

-o-

Over the next few days Jasper and Edward emailed. The emails became longer and more frequent with each exchange as they discussed college, family, interests...even exchanged a few more photos, including one or two sexy ones. Finally, Thursday night, Jasper simply signed one of his emails with:

_-Jasper _

_206-555-4737_

Reading it, Edward's breath caught in his throat. They hadn't talked about meeting, hadn't mentioned phone conversations; but here Jasper was casually dropping it into the realm of possibility. Edward stared at that email for a long time, stung by insecurity. Sure, it was easy to be witty by email when he could take his time, edit, eliminate social awkwardness. There was no editing on the phone...this was serious shizz. And what if their conversations were awkward or stilted?

On the other hand, he told himself, they'd told each other a lot in a very short period of time and seemed to have no lack of things to talk about via email. Perhaps it was time for him to finally hear Jasper's voice, and maybe learn his last name.

With shaking hands he dialed the number, knowing that when Jasper got the call, he'd have Edward's number too. He took a deep breath to steady his voice as he waited for Jasper to pick up.

"Hello?" The voice on the other end was mellow.

"Hi, is this Jasper?" he asked.

"Yes...Edward?" Jasper replied.

"It's me." A grin came to his face.

"Wow, it's great to finally hear your voice," said Jasper. "I didn't know if you'd call."

"Well, since you were nice enough to give me your number, I thought the polite thing to do would be to use it."

"Polite, huh?" Jasper's tone was teasing.

Edward just chuckled nervously in reply, before asking, "So, uh, how's the studying?

"I think I might actually be prepared for these midterms," Jasper replied.

"That's great," Edward congratulated him. "I hated exams – I'm so glad to be done with that." They had determined in their emails that Edward was three years older than Jasper, and at twenty-four had been working in his field for two years. Jasper, in his junior year, would have another year to go after this one before he got his degree.

They chatted about inconsequential things for a while, and Edward was relieved to find Jasper so easy to talk to. When Edward sensed the conversation was wrapping up, he knew he had to make a decision – and he decided to take another leap.

"So, I was thinking that, since you gave me your phone number, I could give you something."

"Really?" Jasper's voice was curious. "What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking...Cullen."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Cullen," Edward said again. "It's my last name."

"Oh!" Jasper was clearly surprised, but recovered to say, "I'm glad to know you, Edward Cullen. My last name is Whitlock. Jasper Whitlock."

"Jasper Whitlock," Edward repeated. "Okay."

-o-

Their conversations continued each day, though not quite replacing the emails; rather, they supplemented them. In their phone conversations they spoke of realities, the day-to-day details of their lives; in email it was easier to talk about their respective histories, their dreams and aspirations...their desires.

A week after their first conversation, Jasper found himself writing the last of his midterm exams. He'd told Edward about it when they talked the night before, hoping Edward might suggest a celebration when it was over; but Edward had merely wished him well on the exam.

When the exam was over, Jasper left campus and headed back to his apartment. He wasn't far from home when his phone chirped with a new message. He opened it, smiling to find it was from Edward. There was no text in the email itself, but the photo attached said it all.

It was a photograph of Edward again; this time he was standing – fully clothed – in front of a cafe that Jasper knew to be on the UW campus. A broad smile graced his beautiful features; and yet another sign was held in his hands. This time it said, _Meet me here for_ _dinner tonight?_

Immense pleasure flooded through Jasper when he realized, finally, he was going to get to meet Edward face-to-face. It was, he knew, a unique and somewhat backwards way to approach a new relationship – finally meeting long after each had already seen the other naked, though not in person. He shivered at the thought of running his hands over Edward's smooth chest, kissing his lips and face and neck...

...and just like that, Jasper was hard as a rock. It wasn't the most convenient time for it, since he was still three blocks from home. Fortunately, he'd worn reasonably tight briefs that day, and he was more or less contained; though he did opt to return to his apartment _before_ replying to Edward's email.

At home, after peeling off his jeans and briefs to relieve the pressure on his aching cock, he quickly emailed Edward back. _Yes! I'd love to, _he replied. _What time? _Edward's reply indicated seven p.m. As it was shortly after three, Jasper had lots of time, and showering and dressing would not do a great deal to fill it. It was a good time to take some of the physical edge off his anticipation. He pulled out his phone and, looking once again at Edward's naked photo, he very quickly brought himself off, moaning quietly as he came.

It was several hours later that, showered, dressed and feeling jitters that were unusual for him, he found himself standing in front of the cafe he'd seen in Edward's email. He bounced lightly on the balls of his feet as he waited, tapping his keys in his pants pocket. He tried not to stare at those who passed on the street, tried not to seek out a hint of familiarity on every face...tried not to jump out of his skin when he realized that the boy who was rapidly emerging from the evening gloom toward him had coppery hair and delicately handsome features...and a shy, slightly crooked smile which he had now turned on Jasper.

"Edward," Jasper breathed, unable to contain his own broad grin when the boy finally stood before him. Mentally he catalogued little things about Edward that hadn't been visible in the photos: he was almost the exact same height as Jasper; he had a smattering of tiny freckles across his nose and cheeks; there was a scar under his lower lip, a tiny divot that looked like it had once been a piercing.

"Hi, Jasper," Edward replied, his green eyes shining as they reflected the lights from the front of the restaurant. He too was absorbing a thousand details about the object of his affection, someone upon whom he'd never laid eyes, not in person; but who was so much more beautiful than his pictures did justice to. As he'd walked up the street Edward had debated with himself – would he step in to kiss Jasper hello, or just extend his hand? Now, in the moment, the hand won. Edward had spent quite a bit of time picturing things he wished to do with Jasper, and as silly and romantic as it may have been, he wanted their first kiss to be soft, unhurried and tender – not a quick peck.

"I'm so glad to _finally_ meet you," Jasper said earnestly, taking Edward's extended right hand in his own. They didn't shake; just held hands, time seeming to slow as they looked into each other's eyes.

After a pause Edward murmured that he, too, was glad to meet Jasper; and finally Jasper gestured to the restaurant and said simply, "Shall we?"

-o-

Dinner was a surreal event. Though the cafe was reasonably crowded, to them the others could have just not existed. The noise and bustle of the crowd faded into a soft hum of white noise around them; they talked endlessly, never a pause in their tête-à-tête, aside from the occasional moments when one would find himself staring dreamily at the other and realize he'd missed his cue in the conversation.

Only when dinner was over, after they'd shared a crème brulée for dessert and found themselves standing back out on the sidewalk, a little ways down from the restaurant, did their conversation flag. It was then that Edward realized how intently Jasper was looking at his mouth; and his stomach did a flip-flop. His breath caught in his throat as Jasper slowly leaned closer, and when he was certain of what was to happen, he closed his eyes and leaned to close the remaining millimeters between their lips.

Their lips brushed softly, once, twice; and the third time Edward's hands tentatively reached out to settle onto Jasper's shoulders, gently keeping him from moving away. When Jasper responded, Edward finally released that breath, relaxing into the sensations. The kiss was every bit as perfect as he'd hoped. Jasper's hands slid lightly around to Edward's lower back, where they traced up and down under the jacket he wore. Edward twisted a little as the light touch tickled him. Against his lips, Jasper's mouth turned up into a grin; he chuckled.

They pulled back enough to look into each other's eyes. "I like kissing you," Jasper murmured.

"I think you should do it some more," Edward replied, feeling a little cheeky.

Jasper's reply was unintelligible as it was mumbled into Edward's open mouth. Their tongues touched for the first time, and the little sound that escaped Edward was less than a moan but more than a squeak. Jasper's fingers carded through his hair; and it had been so long since Edward had really been touched by anyone that he actually pulled away from the kiss, letting his head fall to one side, his eyes closed and his jaw slack, and just _felt_.

It was when Jasper whispered, "You're so beautiful," that Edward finally roused himself from the gentle comfort. He gave Jasper a beatific smile.

"Thank you," he said, shy though his face was flushing with pleasure at the compliment.

"May I walk you home?"

"Yes," replied Edward simply. Jasper laced his fingers through Edward's and they started off toward Edward's apartment. Since they'd already compared notes on where they lived – about five blocks away from each other – Edward didn't have to point the way. They walked slowly, enjoying the evening and their proximity to each other. The streets were busy; many students, having finished midterms, were out enjoying some well-earned celebration. Edward barely noticed those around them, though; he only cared that Jasper's hand was pressing so warm against his, remembered the feel of Jasper's soft lips against his.

When they got to Edward's building, they paused in front of the door; Jasper looked as though he was about to bid Edward good night. Edward knew he couldn't let that happen. He took Jasper's other hand so that they were holding both hands between them, and looking into Jasper's eyes, he whispered, "Stay with me?"

Jasper's eyes widened, but there was a smile in those eyes. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Edward answered without hesitation.

"I'd love to stay."

-o-

Upstairs, Jasper discovered that Edward's body was even better in person than it was in photographs. After they'd discarded their coats and shoes and made their way to Edward's room, their shirts were the first things to hit the floor. Jasper traced the definition of Edward's chest, remembering with pleasure how alluring he'd found it, that first night he saw the picture on the website. Edward was in shape – defined – but not ripped. Jasper's lips followed his fingers across those pecs and down abdominals that rippled under smooth skin. Again Edward closed his eyes and gave himself to the sensations, noticing that Jasper was careful not to tickle this time.

When Edward's slacks fell to a puddle beside Jasper's, it was his turn to explore. With his nose he nuzzled Jasper's cock through the thin cotton of his briefs, inhaling the slightly musky scent and feeling his own cock jump as he did. He felt Jasper's hips flex slightly toward him, and in response, he pressed his face deeper into Jasper's groin. It was a dance, a game of _who wants it more_ – who could press the most skin, give the most sensation. When Jasper groaned and twisted his hips to Edward's face, Edward grinned, knowing it really didn't matter who won this game – really, they'd both come out on top.

So to speak.

Jasper flipped Edward onto his back, hovering over his body on his hands and knees. He smiled, leaned in to kiss Edward softly, and then he reached for the waistband of Edward's briefs. Edward lifted just a bit, letting Jasper slide them off, and he was exposed. He knew it wasn't the first time Jasper had seen him; but it didn't make it any less nerve-wracking. Fortunately, Jasper chose that very moment to again wax poetic on Edward's beauty, and punctuated it with a swipe of his tongue up the underside of Edward's hard shaft.

Edward's body rose from the bed, a reflex to the unexpected sensation; but Jasper placed his hands on both Edward's hips, keeping his midsection, at least, pinned to the bed. He opened his mouth wide and, a bit at a time, took Edward's cock into his mouth until the head pressed against the back of his throat. He released it, pulling back, and let his tongue slide in under the foreskin before going down again. He kept up the pattern of attack and retreat until Edward was panting and moaning, knowing he would come soon if Jasper didn't give him a reprieve.

"Hey," he said, his thumbs stroking Jasper's cheeks where they were hollowed with his activities. Jasper released him and grinned, his cheeks creasing into deep dimples. Edward couldn't help returning the smile before he said, "My turn."

Jasper rose to kneel on the bed, and Edward sat up so he could slide Jasper's briefs down his thighs. Jasper's cock was thick, if not the longest he'd seen. Edward gently grasped it just under the head, sliding his thumb over the stretched-smooth skin of the head. Jasper struggled to remain upright, and Edward smiled. "Lie down," he suggested, and directed Jasper so he was lying on his side facing Edward; then reversed his own body so that they were each lying on their sides, facing each other, cock-to-mouth. It was nearly impossible, Edward realized, to completely engage what was being done to him _and_ give Jasper's cock his full, undivided attention, at least at the same time. They fell naturally into a seesaw pattern, sensing when the other was close to release and backing off to prolong the enjoyment, and feeling the other redouble his own efforts.

Finally Jasper pulled away, and moved to lie atop Edward, straddling his hips and pressing their cocks together. Edward groaned, feeling the weight of Jasper's body on him and the touch of their cocks sliding against each other. He reached for a bottle of lube; just a few drops had the intended effect, and Jasper cried out the first time he slipped through the new slickness.

"I want to come with you like this," he moaned.

"Yes," Edward hissed. "Fuck...yeah. So good...make me come."

Jasper increased the depth of his strokes, gliding more of his length along Edward's. Edward wrapped his legs around Jasper's, locking their lower sections together and flexing his own hips. Beads of sweat were forming on them as they writhed, seeking release together.

Edward was so close. He knew just a few more strokes would have him coming. He thought of them both spilling their jizz, the two mixing together, painting their stomachs...

"Oh, god! Jasper..._fuck!" _He came, moaning Jasper's name without a hint of the self-consciousness he usually felt with a new partner. In fact, he had barely a conscious thought at all, beyond the reality of the climax that was battering his body. He knew, though, when Jasper suddenly tensed above him and then, burying his head in Edward's neck, groaned and whimpered through his own peak.

When the sensations were finally enough-and-too-much, when they stopped looking for more press, more thrust, Jasper's suddenly limp body rested completely on Edward's. Wordlessly Edward stroked Jasper's hair; and they lay in silence for a time, just trying to catch their breath and let their overheated bodies return to a state somewhat closer to normal. It was Edward who got up – it being his apartment – to get a cloth and clean them both off, and as he gently wiped their release from Jasper's smooth stomach, Jasper looked up at him.

"When you said, 'Stay with me,' did you mean _stay_?" he asked hesitantly.

Edward didn't answer right away. He finished cleaning Jasper off, then did the same to himself. After tossing the cloth into the clothes hamper, he stood beside the bed, looking over Jasper's prone form. "I meant _stay_," he said hesitantly, adding, "but it's okay if you want to go."

"Oh, hell, no," Jasper said, unable to contain his grin. "As long as you want me here, I'm here." He snuggled down into the bed, folding back the covers so Edward could slide in beside him. Edward, feeling a sense of relief, did just that, turning to press his back up against Jasper's chest.

Jasper wrapped his arms around Edward and let out a deep sigh of contentment. "Thank you for tonight," he murmured. "It was the best night I've ever had."

"Me too," Edward answered honestly. They lay there in silence until he felt Jasper's limbs begin to twitch as he fell asleep; and then Edward added, "We really must do it again sometime. Soon."

-o-

**Hope you enjoyed the continuation! I think we'll see one more chapter of this story, just to tie things up nicely. :)**


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